Love's Gift

NELLIE B. MACE

The Christ, Truth, whispered yesteryear to me,
Low, tenderly;
I listened, then I heard—'tis clearer grown—
God's thought of thee.
And oh, Love's thought of thee did make thee seem
So fair to me!
I saw thee then without the mask—His child;
Thy own true self.
Nor maimed, nor blind, nor poor, nor sick, nor faint,
But radiant, loving, noble, pure, and free—
God's thought expressed.

Love's thought of man hath healed me, friend,
Of loneliness, of grief, despair;
Hath blessed me so with deep, dear joy,
I fain would share yet more, and ask
That thou mayst hear and see with me
God's thought of thee and me and all.

I give thee, friend, my rarest gift,—
The thought of thee Love gave to me.

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